seventy-one.
Jun. 6th, 2012 11:44 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
Just Say Yes
Artist: Snow Patrol
Album: Up to Now
Year: 2010
♥: Last night, you asked me what I think has changed the most for me in the past couple of months -- and I said that everything seems right, now.
And that's still true. But so much has changed in the past couple of months, and a lot of that hinges on something seemingly obvious -- but something that I haven't been able to do until now. Put simply: saying yes.
I don't mean yes in that "say yes to life!" way or "yes I would like pepper on my salad" or even, really, vocally saying yes, at all. What I mean is that for the first time, I can feel myself pushing against my own boundaries -- and then, I can feel them open. My reactions would once have been immediately cagey, defensive, embarrassed, or self-conscious -- and sometimes, I can sense myself falling into old patterns, old ways of dealing with intimacy, closeness. But then I stop, and I can be rational, take a step back, and ask what is holding you back?
And it's never anything. Or at least, it's never anything that makes sense NOW, in this context. There is no reason for me to shut down, pull away, rationalize my independence.
So then I ask do you want this?
And I always say yes.
(Maybe simple,
but I never thought I'd get here.)
I love this song. I love how it rolls, how each "just say yes" lyric is paired with a beautiful, emotional swell of music. I love the lyrics, that they are honest ("I won't be okay and I won't pretend I am") and that they are accurate ("You're the only way to me / the path is clear"). I love that it swirls and is layered and that I always thought "please take my hand" was "please take my heart." And it's not that you don't already know this song, or that it's not cheesy (though I never really thought it was), or that I've been listening to it all that much this week (though it was on repeat for much of May), but that it fits. I can't let this season go without posting it; I want it on our playlist to represent this time, for me. Like "Anna Sun," it's meant other things in the past, but it means viscerally more now.